Throwing Julien the sharpest of daggers, Cinn responded with, “Don’t even dare. I’m so fucking furious at you it’s unreal.” Then he slid into the seat next to him, opposite Lucien and Carrie.
The mammoth dining room table was meticulously adorned with fine linen, crystal glasses, and several candelabras alight with flickering glows. Each place was set with a ridiculous amount of polished silverware.
While Lucien spoke to Marie, Julien turned to Cinn, glancing down to their place settings and opening his mouth.
“If you eventhinkabout trying to explain this cutlery to me, I will cut you,” Cinn hissed, tapping the handle of the steak knife for good measure.
Julien smirked. “Why would I need to explain cutlery to a Michelin star chef such as yourself?”
Cinn was about to pick up the knife anyway when Lucien and Carrie’s attention gravitated back towards them.
“Julien, one would assume you’ve received correspondence from MEET by now concerning your application,” Lucien said, his tone one of condescension.
“Non, Père.”With a glance at Cinn, he added, “Mote-Enhanced Engineering & Technologies.”
“I know what MEET stands for by now,” Cinn mumbled. “You don’t shut up about it.”
Lucien chuckled. “My ambitious son has always possessed a talent for relentless chatter. Speaking of MEET, however…” Lucien’s gaze narrowed in on Julien. “You still haven’t offered me your thoughts on the steam-engine proposal.”
“There wasn’t too much to say. Besides, I heard through the grapevine your people had already motioned to acquire it before anyone else had the chance to pick up up their pen.”
The older man stared at the younger as if he could burn him with his gaze. “Of course. Improving the efficiency of cargo ships will only benefit the entire planet, especially those populations in developing countries whose economies rely on exporting goods.”
“Oui, but it doesn’tneedHorizonTech’s stamp on it to do so.”
The tension in the air was beyond palpable. Cinn stared down at the table, unable to maintain the back and forth.
“May I remind you that HorizonTech—”
“Gentlemen, save the business talk for the party tomorrow,” interjected Carrie, with a nod to Cinn, who couldn’t help but flush.
Lucien smiled a flash of sharp teeth. “Quite right dear. Now, Cinn, as you find yourself assimilated into the institute, do you harbour any grand visions for your future with us? Perhaps some objectives?”
Visions?!Objectives?! Was the man joking? Cinn’s only plan was to keep his head down and hope they somehow forgot to ever ask him to go and banish those terrifying monster things to the shadowrealm, or whatever the fuck they actually wanted him there for.
Marie gifted Cinn a precious few moments to prepare his answer by presenting their amuse-bouche, the existence of which caused Cinn to wonder just how many courses he was going to have to sit through, and distracting him from producing his answer for Lucien.
“Um…” he started.
Julien interjected with, “Eleanor and Noir are formulating an agenda for Cinn to spend some time shadowing at various Auri departments.”
They are?
“That’s a splendid plan,” commented Carrie. “A great way to immerse him in how things work.”
Resisting shaking his head, Cinn used the soup spoon to scoop up his hors d’œuvre from its shallow bowl. This was the most awkward dinner of his life, but he couldn’t deny the single, bite-sized truffle-infused oyster velouté with caviar was tasty.
Determined that Julien wouldn’t be his mouthpiece, Cinn added, “I still have lots to learn about shadowslipping from Noir first, before I think about anything else.” He glanced down at the golden bangle around his wrist, the life-changing device that suppressed unwanted slips. If only he’d been given it from the beginning. He’d have grown up unafraid, and four lives wouldn’t have been taken.
Lost in his thoughts, Cinn didn’t catch the name of the next dish, some sort of duck liver with a fig compote. Ifhewere in the kitchen, he would have added a touch of balsamic reduction, but he certainly wasn’t about to tell Marie that.
When the next dish wasn’t the main, but a soup, Cinn wanted to scream. Marie’s lobster bisque with saffron and chervil oil turned his stomach even before his first mouthful, the pungent seafood aroma overwhelming him.Fish do not belong in soup,he thought miserably, placing a miniscule amount on his spoon.
He tuned back in to hear the phrase, ‘Arcane Purifiers’, spat from Lucien’s mouth.
Hoping he wouldn’t be asked his opinion, Cinn glanced at Julien to catch the twinkle in his eye. The twinkle that meant he was about to cause trouble. “HoweverPère, you can’t deny that the evidence is there. Since the Calamities of Nineteen Sixty-Five, the rise in natural disasters has been fully consistent with our constant increase of mote channelling and mote application. And, now, with these new umbraphage creatures attacking people on city streets…”
With cold, flinty eyes bulging, Lucien elevated his chin. “Don’t you dare extend sympathy towards their narrow-minded crusade within this household,mon fils. Their misguided, ill-informed quest poses a threat to the stability of the moteblessed community. They are nothing short of terrorists. I would have expected, especially after witnessing their work first-hand recently, that you wouldn’t utter a word in defence of their cause.” His words cut through the air with an authoritative sharpness.
